


Airwaves

by Colorful_World, eyes0ny0u



Category: SHINee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 07:55:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12316944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colorful_World/pseuds/Colorful_World, https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyes0ny0u/pseuds/eyes0ny0u
Summary: Title: AirwavesPrompt-#: 191For: AnonymousPairing: Onew/MinhoAuthor: eyes0ny0u@ao3 & TumblrWord count: 13,905 wordsRating: R (for language and violence)Warnings: Mentions of blood. 1 fight sceneSummary: Minho is in love with his best friend and colleague, Jinki. He’s trying to decide if he should go big by risking losing a friend to get a chance at love. Or go home and watch from the sidelines - like he's  always done. But someone keeps interfering and trying to bench him before he can make a move.





	Airwaves

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Airwaves  
> Prompt-#: 191  
> For: Anonymous  
> Pairing: Onew/Minho  
> Author: eyes0ny0u@ao3 & Tumblr  
> Word count: 13,905 words  
> Rating: R (for language and violence)  
> Warnings: Mentions of blood. 1 fight scene  
> Summary: Minho is in love with his best friend and colleague, Jinki. He’s trying to decide if he should go big by risking losing a friend to get a chance at love. Or go home and watch from the sidelines - like he's always done. But someone keeps interfering and trying to bench him before he can make a move.

 

 

"Why can't he understand that I need to spend time with my friends too?" the caller complained over the air. "It's not like I'm cheating on him. I just want to hang out with my friends."

 

"And that's understandable," Jinki agreed soothingly. "Have you tried explaining that to him?"

 

"I did, but then he says it shouldn't be a problem for him to tag along."

 

Jinki laughed and everyone in the studio and listeners everywhere practically melted at the sound. Rich baritone rolling smoothly over the airwaves was one of the reasons that The Session was so popular. There was something hypnotic about Jinki's tone and the reassuring rumble coupled with the sincerity in his tone gave listeners the impression that he cared about their love problems on a personal level.

 

It was all perception of course, though Jinki did try his best to care about the "cases" that came his way. But sometimes, calls like the current one was common and usually a product of immature partners. Like IndieGirl325 who was on the line described herself as an ‘assertive, independent 20-year-old’. The blunt she spoke backed that up. And from what he gathered, her only problem was being in a relationship with a man who was insecure in their relationship.

 

"I hate to ask this, IndieGirl325, but have you given your boyfriend any reason to think that he couldn't trust you?" Jinki asked cautiously. He didn't want to sound like he was blaming the girl for the guy's actions, but it had to be asked, especially when he couldn’t take the boyfriend's side on the matter.

 

"No, of course not!" was the vehement answer. "I don't even look at other guys!"

 

"Did your boyfriend's ex cheat on him, maybe?"

 

"I don't know," IndieGirl325 said thoughtfully. "I don't like discussing previous relationships, so we've never discussed our ex's. I don't believe in prying into another person's past."

 

"I understand how you feel," Jinki agreed. "There's usually no merit in trying to bring up the past. But in this case, it might help you reassure your boyfriend."

 

"I guess."

 

"It might also help if you guys discussed without the arguing," Jinki suggested. "Have a calm discussion instead of making each other feel defensive. No one listens at that point. Both of you are just trying to prove the other wrong. And nothing gets resolved -- just a lot of hurt feelings."

 

The caller lapsed into a thoughtful silence, mulling over the DJ’s advice. The DJ was thankful that the woman, despite being irate, seemed open to taking advice.

 

There were many instances that the callers called to vent rather than get advice. And when Jinki didn't say exactly what they wanted to hear, they lashed out in the comments section of the program page.

 

"Thanks, Doc," IndieGirl325 said. "I'll see him in a couple of days, and hopefully we'll sort this out."

 

"Anytime, IndieGirl325. Let us know how it goes, ok?" Jinki's smile could be heard over the radio. "Before you go, do you have a song you want to hear?"

 

"'Telephone,' by Lady Gaga and Beyoncé, please," IndieGirl325 said with a giggle.

 

"How appropo," Jinki laughed. "Alright, folks here's 'Telephone' by the incomparable Lady Gaga and Queen B. You're listening to The Session on SHINE 109.1 where your hearts croon to the coolest tunes."

 

The 'ON AIR' sign flickered off, and Jinki removed his headphones, marking his place in the script. He made sure he had songs and commercials lined up for the next few minutes, before attending to the flashing of his phone.

 

*Guess who's back in town?*

 

*Beyoncé?* Jinki responded without missing a beat.

 

*Asshole* The text glared at Jinki. *Dinner?*

 

*Too busy to have dinner with you,* Jinki tapped on his phone.

 

*Dude, I feel the love. Indeed I do.*

 

Jinki grinned at his phone, clearly picturing Minho's irritated face. His best friend had been away for two weeks on vacation. He had to admit it had been a tad lonely without the tall man to keep him company.

 

The 10-second warning beep sounded in the booth signaling the end of the commercial. Jinki puts away his phone and donned his headphones while scanning the messages on the comment board. Taemin had flagged a phone call for him to answer and he cleared his throat to receive the call.

 

"This is The Session on SHINE 109.1 with Doc J, your airwave therapist," Jinki greeted and quickly skimmed the information on the phone call. "We have a call on the line. TallDarkandHandsome what can I do for you today?"

 

"Hey Doc J, can you help me convince this special someone to have dinner with me?"

 

Jinki rolled his eyes while the staff outside the booth guffawed as they recognized the voice of the morning show DJ who was also Jinki’s best friend.

 

"I don't know, Choi," Jinki answered in a droll tone, identifying the owner of the voice to the listeners in case they haven't figured it out yet. Choi's voice was just as popular as Jinki’s in the station. "I'm good, but I'm no miracle worker."

 

"Aww come on, Doc," Minho said, a smile in his voice. "Help me out here. What do you think it will take to get this adorable little bunny with the sexiest voice to have dinner with me at 3 in the morning?"

 

"Sounds like a booty call than dinner, to be honest," Jinki teased. "Maybe that's why they won't go out with you."

 

"But my little bun bun work nights and sleeps during the day, so 3 AM is really dinner time for him."

 

"Oh my God," Jinki groaned. "'My little bun bun?' Really Minho?"

 

Minho's laughter poured over the speakers making everyone laugh at the hyena-like braying.

 

"Tell me it's not accurate though? Let's take a vote, everyone. Do you or do you not agree that Doc J is a cute 'little bun bun.' Send your answers to 065 4331 or online at thesession1091.com and help me prove a point."

 

"Hey! This is my program!" Jinki exclaimed, watching in horror as answers started pouring in.

 

*Guest1290: Doc J is a cute little bun bun*

 

*InNeedofLove: Petition to call this "The Cute Little Bun Bun Show!"*

 

*~ilovebunnies~: DJ Choi loves the cute little bun bun.*

 

*SHINE1091-PDTaem: I'm renaming the show to "The Little Bun Bun" show.*

  

*jongiepup: DJ Choi is so cheesy! Buuuut, he's not wrong. Doc J is an adorable little bun bun. o(> <)o*

 

*iluvdocj: Doc J is a precious little bun bun, agreed. But DJ Choi, hands off! He's MY little bun bun."

 

Jinki shook his head, laughing at the comments popping up on the message board. Trust Minho to derail his program.

 

 "Fantastic, Choi, you just managed to hijack my program," Jinki said in mock anger. "And no Taemin PD, you can't rename the show."

 

 Taemin shrugged from the other side of the glass grinning at him.

 

 "I'm looking at the message board too, and not one person disagreed with me," Minho said in a gloating tone. "It's official; you're a little bun bun. And iluvdocj, no hon, he's MY little bun bun."

 

 "Stop it," Jinki implored. "I'm a grown man, why do I have to suffer this kind of indignity?"

 

 "Are you implying bunnies are devoid of dignity?" Minho asked with an offended gasp. "I do believe you owe the bunny community an apology, my friend."

 

 "Shuddup," Jinki said trying to hide a laugh.

 

 "No, seriously, as a bunny lover, I demand you apologize."

 

 "I'm hanging up," Jinki announced. "Good night, Choi."

 

"Fine, I'll see you tomorrow," Minho said, dropping the act. "Good to be back everyone, give my good friend Doc J lots of love."

 

"Do you want to request a song?" Jinki asked, smiling into the mic.

 

"'Say You Love Me,' by MYMP."

 

"K, man, I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good rest," Jinki said. "DJ Choi, everyone. Back from Italy. Be sure to catch his show tomorrow at 3 PM for your morning news."

 

"Night, all!" Minho closed. "Sweet dreams my cuddly little bun b - ."

 

Jinki disconnected the call and played the show tagline before queuing Minho's requested song. After adding five more songs to the list, Jinki grabbed his phone intending to finish their plans from earlier. But his phone was already flashing with another message from Minho.

 

*I'll call you later, my little bun bun. :P*

 

*You're an asshole, and I will hate you for the rest of my life.*

 

*Fine. Where do you want to have breakfast?*

 

*Marie's. I want pancakes.*

 

*K. Night, bun bun.*

 

*Burn in hell, Choi.*

 

Minho laughed at the text, clearly picturing the pout on Jinki's face. A grin spread across his lips as he tapped *I love you, too* in response. He waited for a comeback, but The Session's tagline was already playing through the radio.

 

 

 

 

  - o -

 

"I hope everyone enjoys the first day of fall and remember to check the weather and traffic report before you head out today. Here's SHINee's Obsession to close out the show. This has been Doc J for The Session on SHINE 109.1, wishing you a great start of September!"

 

Jinki turned off the mic and put away his script and headphones. The production assistant came in and thanked him and started tidying up even before the mobile radio bus came to a full stop.

 

Although it was already 5 PM on a Sunday Jinki was only halfway through his first day of his usual work week. After the show, he had a production meeting, an ad, and a jingle to record. Next, he needed to meet with Minho's production staff to discuss the upcoming anniversary event the two of them will be hosting.

 

"Good job," Taemin told him as they both exited the bus. The producer handed him a sheaf of stapled paper. "I need you to look over the suggestions for the new corner. Then let me know what you think about the new tagline. And the last bit is the paperwork for the ad offer."

 

"Cool," Jinki nodded, sipping coffee from his travel mug as he reviewed the first page. "Let me grab my laptop, and I'll see you in the conference room. Also, you should tell Amber to replace the headphones. They're starting to sound scratchy."

 

"Junghee? You hear that?" Taemin threw over his shoulder at the production assistant trailing them. His fingers busy tapping away on his phone. "You should check out the message board, by the way. You got some serious love from your fans today. Best stats we've had all week."

 

"Thanks," Jinki beamed, "I will," nodding at the shy assistant as she stepped past him, hurrying after Taemin. Jinki walked into his office, dropping the paper on his desk and grabbed the carafe to refill his mug. He really should stop drinking so much coffee. This was his 3rd cup in as many hours. He'll never sleep later.

 

Good thing Choi was back to keep him entertained.

 

 

 

 

\- o -

 

*Goddamn you, Lee Jinki.* Minho groaned as the 3 o'clock sun hit him square in the face through the car windshield. The pounding in his head intensifying at the glare.

  

Jinki had come knocking on his door at 11 last night. Said he couldn't sleep, so the two of them had walked to their favourite __ssam__ and soju place. It was a little after 2 am when they stumbled back to his place. Jinki was still snoring on his couch when he left for work.

 

"Welcome back," the security greeted him. "You look like hell."

 

"Thanks, gramps," Minho said wryly. "I missed your sarcastic, gossip-mongering, old ass. I really did."

 

"I know you did, Choi. I could hear you crying from Italy," the guard chuckled satisfied with their exchange and returned to his paper. Most likely checking the latest entertainment "news," ignoring Minho's spluttering and missing the box of Italian sweets that appeared on the security counter.

 

"Guess who's back?" Minho announced, arms stretching out wide despite the shopping bags in his hand, as he entered the designated booth for his show: 'After Hours.'

 

"You're late, Choi," Gwiboon said, not looking up from the paperwork she was signing. "Where's my prosciutto?"

 

"I don't think you deserve this after that greeting," Minho groused, pulling out the wax paper-wrapped meat product and proceeded to sidle up next to his producer. "Say you missed me."

 

"Sure," Gwiboon snorted, finally looking up to move away from Minho's cheesy whisper. Before the DJ could play with her, the producer had already grabbed her gift. An excited smile lit up her face. "It smells so good!"

 

"Who would've thought that that fine figure harboured an anaconda-sized tapeworm?" Minho muttered.

 

A stinging smack upside his head was his producer's answer.

 

"Damn, man, you never learn, do you?" Nichkhun asked, coming up behind him. The two men clapped each other on the back in greeting. "Where's mine?"

 

"You guys didn't miss me at all did you?" Minho asked suspiciously. "Y'all are here just to collect your gifts."

 

"Pretty much," Nichkhun teased, grabbing the bottle of wine before Minho could withhold it. "We enjoy the quiet time around the office when you're not here."

 

"Git!" Minho snapped, miming a kick to the IT guy's retreating behind. "Thankless, ass."

 

"Thanks, Minho!" Nichkhun called out, laughing as he disappeared down the hall to the IT room where he maintained the station’s website and monitored the message boards.

 

"Yeah, yeah," Minho said smiling as he sat down. "Eunsook, luv, how's that new tagline coming along?"

 

"It's come and gone," the writer muttered, glaring at Gwiboon's bent head as she reached for the box of perfume Minho was handing her. "For the 30th time!"

 

"The problem with perfectionists," Minho tsked in commiseration, patting Eunsook's back as she gave him a thank you hug. He pulled another parcel from his bag, holding it out to the newly minted broadcasting assistant quietly watching the entire exchange. "Taeyeon, this one's for you."

 

"Oh!" The assistant flushed as she accepted the gift. "Thank you! You didn't have to."

 

"'Course I did," Minho said. "You're part of the team now. And it's nice to actually hear a heartfelt 'thank you.'"

 

"Don't fall for him," Gwiboon told the assistant, ignoring Minho's pointed words. "He's a heartbreaker."

 

Minho merely laughed and winked at Taeyeon, as he put on his headphones.

 

"Ready everyone," Gwiboon called out. "On my count..."

 

3, 2, 1...

 

"Good afternoon, Seoul! Welcome to your favourite hangout, you're with DJ Choi. We’re rocking the afternoon away with the latest hits here on After Hours on SHINE 109.1..."

 

The program progressed smoothly. DJ and behind the scenes staff working seamlessly. The producers queueing requests, song, commercials and the stats are higher than ever. Nichkhun hummed to 2PM's debut track as he checked the website stats and watched the message board activity.

 

It seemed like people did miss the DJ while he was away on vacation based on the number of welcome back messages that flooded the message board.

 

*User143: i thought his lame ass would stay in Italy for good. I thought SHINE would finally do something right.*

 

*lurkmode344: I thought Shindong was taking over this program?*

 

*deliquent0808: Nah, he was just filling in for, DJ Choi.*

 

*User143: this guy’s got no talent anyways. Always calling on Doc J to boost his program.*

 

*lurkmode344: Dude, what is your damage? Leave the man alone.*

 

*User143: Stupid, talentless, Choi. Fire him already. Can’t even get his pronunciation right.*

 

*DIRKWASHERE: buzz off hater.*

 

*User143: lame ass, Choi.*

 

*User143: Go jump off a cliff already.*

 

Nichkhun shook his head at the vitriol from the user. The IT pulled the user profile and blocked the IP. Watching as the messages disappeared from the queue.

 

"Later, haters," he said, smiling.

 

 

 

 

\- o -

 

Jinki arrived at the station bleary-eyed but freshly showered. Which was a feat considering he only had an hour to drive back to his place to shower and then get to the station. He can't believe Choi didn't wake him up, the bastard.

 

"Hey, Jinki," Luna, one of the writers called out to him as soon as he stepped out of the elevator. "I need a voice for the Seoul parade insert. Can you and Choi do it sometime tomorrow?"

 

"I should be fine; better check with Minho, though."

 

"Check what with me?" Minho asked from behind Jinki, startling the other man.

 

"The heck, man!" Jinki exclaimed. "A little warning next time?"

 

"Sorry, princess," Minho teased, pinching Jinki's cheek. "I'll stomp next time."

 

"Sorry to interrupt you love birds, but could you save the canoodling for later," Luna said in a wry tone. "I need this insert recorded like, yesterday. I’ll email you both the details and get back to me with availability? Yeah?"

 

"Yeah, fine," Minho said, nodding an absent goodbye to the writer, attention already focused on brushing away the cat hair he found clinging to the back of Jinki's shirt. "How's Horacio?"

 

"Spoiled and fat," Jinki answered, studying the document in his hand. "Did Minjung give you the new program for the anniversary show?"

 

"Yeah, but I haven't reviewed it yet," Minho answered, flicking the last bit of the fur away. "You know you should make that cat exercise. That much weight can't be good for her."

 

"Hashtag stop body shaming cats 2017, Choi," Jinki said, not at all concerned with his cat's obesity issue. "Is your team ready with the tagline for your show's new segment?"

 

"It's not body shaming. It's making sure she's healthy," Minho clarified, pulling out his phone. "Eunsook is about to rip Gwiboon bald with her ten-thousandth rewrite request."

 

"Gwiboon'd turn it into a fashion statement," Jinki snorted. "And Horacio is happy the way she is; big, fat and fluffy!"

 

"Here. Take a look at this," Minho nudged Jinki, showing him a picture of a complicated kitty mansion for Horacio. "Neat, huh?"

 

"What the hell is that?" Jinki asked, brow wrinkling at the image on Minho's phone. Returning to the programme draft with a shake of his head. "Anyways, should we still include Caller Request?"

 

"It's a kitty mansion - it's like an elaborate scratching post slash jungle gym," Minho answered, looking over Jinki's shoulder, and reaching around the other man to stop him from shuffling through the papers he was holding. A finger quickly locating the segment for the weekend show. "I think we should. The break after the street interview is a tad too long."

 

"Kitty mansion? How much is it?" Jinki asked grabbing Minho's phone as he handed him the draft of the program. "I thought Minjung was going to introduce the new segment of your show during that break?"

 

"We're supposed to do that just before the show ends." Minho's brows furrowed as he rechecked the paper. "The kitty mansion is about $250."

 

"Hell no!" Jinki exclaimed, shoving Minho's phone against his chest, as he snatched the program out of the other's hand. "The plan was to introduce the segment in the middle and again at the end of the show."

 

"Why not? It's pretty cool," Minho asked catching his phone before it dropped to the floor. "I'm good with that as long as we can still include the Caller's Request."

  

"Because I'm not spending $250 on what I can create with used shipping boxes," Jinki said as he walked away, head bent as he made notes on the paper. "Ok, we'll add the Caller's Request, but we'll cut it down to 2 callers - 3 max."

 

" _ _I'm__ spending the money as a gift for __our__ baby!" Minho said, head still bent over his phone, but raising his voice to make sure Jinki heard him while he checked out the item. "Want me to tell Taemin to move the Red Bull commercial during Caller's Request?"

 

"First off, you only want to buy it because it's cool looking. Secondly, I don't have space and lastly, Horacio is my cat. Denied," Jinki declared, oblivious to Minho typing his home address in the shipping information. "Don't worry about the commercial, I'll tell Taemin."

 

                "Hey, cook me dinner Wednesday next week," Minho called out to Jinki, checking the delivery date of the package. "I want steak."

 

                "No," Jinki said without looking back, still making his notes for the event.

 

                "Chicken then," Minho bargained.

 

                "No."

               

                "The kitty mansion looks complicated."

 

                Jinki stopped in his tracks finally realizing what Minho had done, all while he was telling him not to buy the damn cat mansion.

 

                "Fine!" Jinki yelled turning to face his incorrigible friend, eyes narrowed. "But I’m not lifting a finger to help put that thing together."

 

                "Thank you, bun bun," Minho smiled widely before blowing him a kiss and ducking into his office.

 

                "Why am I even friends with that man?" Jinki asked out loud. People within hearing distance giggled, making Jinki flush with embarrassment.

 

                "You are who your friends are," said a caustic voice to his left. "Loud, arrogant and narcissistic, talentless frauds who thinks they can do anything because they’ve had the world handed to them on a silver platter."

 

"I don't know about that," Jinki replied in a saccharine voice while turning to face the speaker with his fakest, brightest smile. "Kyungsoo is your friend, but he's not a judgemental bigot like you."

 

Jinki left Sehun to splutter in peace, angry strides taking him to the conference room just as Taemin and Junghee reached it. Jinki can shrug off most insults, but no one disses his best friend. Specially when they know nothing of what Minho’s been through.

 

"Oh Sehun at it again?" Taemin asked Jinki, glancing at the red-faced man glaring at the DJ's back.

 

"If he weren't, he wouldn't be Oh Sehun," Jinki said curtly brushing pass him into the conference room, angrily yanking out a chair from under the table."

 

Jinki understood there were some who weren't too happy about Minho's casual conduct. As relaxed as their workplace was, it was still a place of work. So sometimes, Minho draping himself over Jinki at random moments caused a few frowns, especially from HR and management.

 

Which was understandable really, and Jinki would have made a concentrated effort to adhere to their requests if Sehun's frowns were fueled with anything other than homophobia. Jinki would have even try reigning in Minho's tendencies.

 

But Sehun made daily remarks about their relationship and how they would be unwelcome in heaven and how the degradation of society can be laid down at their collective gay feet. And Jinki was vindictive enough to want to get Sehun's goat every now and then. This was 2017 for fuckssake!

 

He didn't understand how the guy managed to work his way up to be the head of HR when he was the least liked person in the station even without being homophobic. The guy was not happy with life and liked sharing his misery with everyone in the form of veiled insults and barbed comments.

 

"Don't let him bother you," Junghee said in her typical quiet tone as she sat next to him. "No one pays attention to him."

 

"Thanks," Jinki said, flashing the assistant a grateful smile. "Do you have the programme?"

 

"Yes, sir," Junghee said, hurriedly handing out the final copy of tonight's programme.

 

"Where's Minjung?" Taemin asked, sitting form across Jinki.

 

"She's still in a meeting with the Morning show. Minjung said she'll be by soon with the second draft of the anniversary script. "

 

"Amber?"

 

"She said to update her later. She's still testing the new OBS."

 

"Will it be operational in time for the show tonight?" Jinki asked with a frown.

 

"I don't know," Junghee answered, biting her lip. Trying not to drop her gaze from Jinki's.

 

"Why do they keep on using our show as a guinea pig for new software version releases?" Taemin griped, annoyance drawing his lips tight. "What's on the agenda that we can do without them?"

 

"The Etude commercial," Junghee said, pulling the ad spec sheet and handing copies to the DJ and the producer. "They were happy with the script we submitted last week. We have the go-ahead to start recording."

 

"Good," Taemin nodded. "Book a booth and check with Jinki and Tiffany for their availability. I want it done before the end of this week."

 

                "Yes, sir," Junghee said, taking down notes.

 

"Don't call me 'Sir.'"

 

"I'm sorry," Junghee mumbled, ducking behind the dense mass of her hair.

 

"Don't worry about it," Jinki said, smiling at the bent head after giving Taemin a hard look. "He's a little sensitive about his old age."

 

"The thought of being 25 makes my back hurt," Taemin joked to take the sting out of his earlier words. "Anyway, can you make sure you make time for the recording?"

 

"Yeah, I can make time," Jinki looked up his calendar and confirmed a date and time with Junghee. "Also, where are we at on the 'favourite couple things' for Halloween?

 

"I don't have the final survey result from Minjung yet," Junghee said. "I do know she has it though."

 

                The trio moved on to review the programme for The Session scheduled that night. Confirming and re-confirming contents, ads, and inserts. Just as Taemin was about to send Junghee to hunt down his missing writer, Minjung sailed into the room. All legs, beautiful smile, and gorgeous skin. SHINE radio's undisputed beauty.

 

"Hey, guys. Sorry for the wait," the writer greeted, plunking herself right next to Jinki. "Eunhyuk was being an ass - as usual."

 

"Next time remind them you're *our* writer. You're only writing for them because Eunhyuk hasn't learned to work with people even after 11 years in the business," Taemin snapped.

 

"You'll have to tell him that, boss. I'm scared of the man, and he outranks me."

 

"I doubt the man who can scare you will ever be born," Jinki teased the writer.

 

"He tries anything- you tell me, and I'll take care of it," Taemin said in a hard tone. "But, this program is your priority."

 

"Copy that," Minjung confirmed and raised a two finger salute at the cranky producer. "So... Anniversary show script. Who wants to write it for me?"

 

 

 

 

\- o -

 

An hour later, Minho knocked on the conference door, signaling the end of the meeting. Jinki nodded at Minho as he gathered his laptop and scripts. The Session production team, except for Taemin, exited.

 

"You grabbing dinner before you head home?" Jinki asked Minho who exchanging bows of greeting to Minjung and Junghee.

 

"Yeah," Minho said eagerly. "Meet me at the cafeteria?"

 

"8:30 sounds good?"

 

"Sure," Minho confirmed, watching Jinki leave, catching up to Minjung and Junghee. The writer cracked a joke Minho couldn't quite make out. But it must be have been hilarious to make Jinki throw his head back, exposing that sexy adam's apple, belly laugh echoing in the hall. Minho could feel a smile tugging at his lips at the joyful sound.

 

"Dude, just ask him out already," Taemin called out from inside the conference room.

 

"Uh, hello, I've asked him a million times," Minho said in an aggrieved tone, masking his genuine interest by playing it off as being his usual flirty self. He entered the conference room and sat in the seat Jinki vacated.

 

"No, you haven't," Taemin snorted, leveling him with a sardonic look. "You pretend to ask him out in your pretense of being the station Lothario."

 

"Yeah, well, what's a best friend for anyways?" Minho grinned at the producer, determined to stick with the charade.

 

Taemin shook his head but started listing off the things they needed to cover for his segment in the anniversary show. Minho resolved to focus on the meeting and ignore the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of seeing Jinki for dinner. But as if to mock him, Jinki's laughter floated from the corridor. Minho's head swiveled, automatically searching for the source.

 

"Best friend, huh?" Taemin muttered, quirking an eyebrow at him.

 

"Put a lid on it, sprout," Minho said letting a bit of his former team star athlete tone seep through the tone. But Taemin merely held up both hands in a conciliatory gesture and hid an amused smile as he read off the next item on the agenda.

 

 

 

 

\- o -

 

Minho jogged into the cafeteria, running 5 minutes late for his dinner with Jinki. With a quick sweeping glance, Minho located Jinki by the windows already eating - with Minjung. Minho upped the wattage of his smile to mask his disappointment.

 

"Hey," Jinki greeted as Minho took the seat next to Minjung. "You all done for the day?"

 

"Yeah," Minho nodded, picking up a dumpling off Jinki's plate and stuffing it into his mouth. "Gwi wanted to re-record one of the inserts."

 

                "Being finicky," Minjung sneered. "Typical."

 

"Whatever did happen between the of you," Minho asked bluntly, picking up a pair of chopsticks and poaching a slice of pork off Jinki's plate. "You two seem to really hate each other."

 

"You mean is there another reason why I hate her other than her being a raging bitch?"

 

"Umm," Jinki hedged glancing at Minho, who was pretty tight with his producer. "I don't know about the latter."

 

"I know what it is. They're attracted to each other," Minho guessed in a conspiratorial whisper to Jinki. "That's all sexual tension they keep throwing at each other."

 

For the second time that day, Minho got slapped upside the head.

 

"Stop making things up!"

 

Minho grinned at Jinki in triumph. Feeling satisfied for avenging Gwiboon, Minho reached for a piece of pork to celebrate.

 

"Stop stealing my food," Jinki complained, snapping his chopsticks at Minho’s thieving digits.

 

"I'm hungry! Why didn't you grab me a plate?"

 

"Well geez, Choi, I didn't know I was your mother!"

 

"Man, you're cold," Minho pouted and proceeded on snitching another piece of pork.

 

The dark circles under Minho’s eyes reminded Jinki his friend was jet lagged and most likely more exhausted than usual.

 

"Have some rice," Jinki said, handing his own rice bowl to Minho. "And drink water! I doubt you remembered to have any today."

 

"Now you're acting like my mother."

 

                "Somebody has to or you'd die of neglect."

 

"Aww, the little bun bun cares for me."

 

Jinki shoved the samgyupsal he was assembling into Minho's mouth. Minho chewed the huge wrap with some difficulty. Jinki took pity on the choking man and handed him a glass of water while thumping his back.

 

                "Can't the two of you just get married already so you can move past the honeymoon phase and start fighting. And then the rest of us can stop feeling miserable about being single?"

  

"Haven't you heard, Minjung? ‘They're not dating'," Taemin interrupted in a wry tone, joining the group with his own tray of food. "Junghee, pull up a chair."

 

The broadcast assistant smiled and sat at the end of the table.

 

                "Well, if they’re not, they should start now," Minjung declared.

 

"This conversation sounds familiar doesn't it, Choi?" Taemin snickered before shoveling rice into his mouth.

 

"No one invited you into this conversation, Taemin," Minho growled between coughs.

 

“Did you get last week’s stats from IT?” Taemin asked Minjung, thankfully moving away from the personal topic, to Minho’ relief.

 

“Yup, same as the week before,” Minjung answered with a satisfied quirk to her lips. “Not bad, eh?”

 

“Not bad, but not good enough,” Taemin returned, his box shaped philtrum evening into an straight line. “I was hoping we’d have a 10% increase by now..”

 

“You are the highest rated late night radio show, you know,” Minho reminded Taemin as he fed Jinki a piece of kimchi with his fingers. “Besides do you really want more crazies spamming you on the message board?”

 

“We can do better. And talk for yourself, Choi. We never get the kind of hate you get,”  Taemin said, attacking his rice and pork cutlet a little too aggressively.

 

“Besides, our listeners are too tired to throw hate that late at night,” Amber the sound technician,  quipped as she walked up. “Scoot, boss.”

 

Taemin grunted at the interruption to his meal but bumped Jinki close to the end of the bench, to make room for the new comer. As Jinki moved his food, the steel chopsticks he held in his hand knocked over the bowl of seaweed soup on Taemin’s tray, dumping the contents on the producer’s lap.

 

Jinki immediately dove for the napkin and started patting and rubbing  Taemin's denim clad thighs. Blotting furiously before the the rips in the jeans could absorb most of the spilled soup.

 

Minho watched from across table as Jinki looked like he was giving his producer a hand job under the table. He had a suspicion Taemin's grimace was not all about the icky sensation of wet clingy jeans.

 

“Jinki, I’m fine,” Taemin told the DJ in a strained voice, face and ears red.

 

“Yeah, Jinks,” Minho couldn’t help saying in a clipped tone. “Stop mothering him.”

 

“Oooh,” Amber singsonged, giving Minho a look full of mischief. “Someone’s bothered.”

 

“Eat,” Minho growled, popping a whole garlic into Amber’s mouth to stop the ribbing.

 

Minho couldn’t decide whether it was a good thing that Jinki was too dense to realize what everyone else could see.

 

 

 

 

\- o -

 

Jinki checked the queued tracks and ads on the upgraded OBS, humming with the song playing in his ear. Everything was going well, considering how the queuing system had been giving Amber grief ten minutes before The Session was about to start.

 

 An instant message popped at the corner of Jinki's monitor with an in-house message:

 

*SHINE-ProdTaemin: Off script, do you want to answer another question?*

 

*SHINE-DJDocJ: Sure. We have still have 10 on the clock anyways. I'll take it and we can close.*

 

Taemin signalled an ok from the control room. Jinki watched the queue change on his monitor. At the 10 sec beep, Jinki browsed through the messages until he located the one Taemin flagged.

 

"That was Hozier rocking a sexy blues sound with 'Work Song.' Speaking of work, we have a walk-in for the love doctor," Jinki said at the end of the track.

 

"'GuardianAngel asked: How do I help a friend who is attracting unwanted romantic attention from someone at work?' Unwanted, huh? If you're is sure that your friend is not interested, I suggest they let the other party know - in a polite manner - as soon as possible so the other party doesn’t get the wrong idea.

 

“Tell your friend to make it clear that they don't want to be in a relationship with this person. Also, they should avoid contact for a while so the other party can get over their feelings. I hope that helps with your dilemma GuardianAngel.

 

“Just before we close, shout out to our loyal listeners. Thank you for being with us every day and we hope the graveyard shift isn't too boring without us to keep you company. A special thank you to bunnylove1214 for always sending us nice messages. And Wookey73, I love you too! My night is never complete without these two.

 

“I leave you with 'Foolish Heart' by Nina. This is Doc J for The Session on SHINE 109.1. Sweet dreams everyone. See you tomorrow.”

 

 

 

 

\- o -

 

“What’s up?” Jinki asked. “You look pissed.”

 

“Some fucker slashed my tires,” Minho answered, plopping on the couch in Jinki’s office.

 

“What?! Did you get the security to look at CCTV?”

 

“The guy was wearing a hoodie and he looked like he knew where all the cameras were.”

 

“Man, that sucks,” Jinki commiserated, moving from his desk to grab a beer for his visibly agitated guest. “How’d the guy even get in? You going to report this to the police?”

 

“Thanks. Yeah, I think I have to at this point,” Minho groused, accepting the cool bottle. “The dude looked like the same guy who keyed my car my first day back from Italy.”

 

“Your haters are getting out of hand,” Jinki said sitting on the chair adjacent to the couch.

 

“Tell me about it. Can I get a ride with you?”

 

“Yeah, of course. But wouldn’t you rather grab a cab now?”

 

“I’m too mad to sleep. Might as well hang around. I’ll be your coffee boy.”

 

Jinki snorted and clapped Minho on the thigh, before getting up and going back to his desk.

 

“I have to prep for the show, but feel free to hang around.”

 

Minho lounged back on the couch, taking a long swig of beer. He was tired and had only come here to see Jinki to calm his nerves. But jet lag and the beer made it feel like it wasn’t worth the effort to climb out of this sofa and hail a cab home.

 

Besides, he wouldn’t have such a beautiful view at home, Minho thought, studying the absorbed look on Jinki’s face as he reviewed whatever paperwork it was that he was dealing with. Minho’s eyes traced the strong dark brows over eyes that could turn into the most delightful crescent when he was smiling or the coldest, piercing orbs of black when they were serious just like now. That, and the fascinating contrast between Jinki’s chiseled jaw and plump lips always did a number on Minho’s heartbeat.

 

This was way better than being at home listening to Jinki on the radio. It was rare that Minho slept before Jinki ended his program. That voice was both his lullaby and his frustration. Especially when he said he returned Minho’s anonymous “I love you’s” he would send on the message board.

 

“You seeing anyone these day?” the question came out without preamble, startling both men.

 

“No,” Jinki answered blinking at Minho who looked like he had fallen asleep. “Why?”

 

“Just wondering.”

 

“Ok... Just don't turn matchmaker on me. I'm not interested.”

 

“Trust me, Jinks. Setting you up with someone is the last thing on my mind,” Minho snorted, taking another drink of his beer to hide the relieved curve of his lips.

 

A few minutes later, quiet snoring interrupted Jinki’s concentration. Minho’s ability to sleep anywhere in strange positions, including lumpy couches, too short for his six foot frame, always impressed Jinki, who needed all the familiar trappings of his bedroom to even make him feel sleepy.

 

Jinki stood up to grab the throw that someone had left in his office. Probably one of the staff working a late night and needing somewhere to crash. As he covered Minho, he noticed the cuff of his jeans had ridden up, exposing his ankles. Jinki couldn’t see it, but he could picture the scar that ran from his ankle to the back of his knee.

 

Minho had been the star athlete of their high school. He could join any sport and excel at it. But his one true love was soccer. Junior year, Mino was on top of the world. Being groomed to be captain of the team and college scouts already sniffing around. But a drunk driver had turned his world upside down.

 

Jinki never said this to anyone, but Minho was his hero. He had lost so much that day. It wouldn’t have been surprising had Minho been bitter and angry at life. Hell, Jinki had been angry for him. But Minho assessed his situation and made plans for how to live his life while accommodating his body’s new restrictions. He bore rehab with a grin, fueled by his infamous determination. Anyone who saw him then would never have guessed the pain-filled sobs he had muffled against Jinki’s neck behind closed doors. But Minho persevered, pushing against pain and the stats against his favour and recovered enough to graduate only a year after his accident, following Jinki to Konkuk University and enrolling in the same major. Minho raised hell in uni like the tragic interlude had never happened.

 

Jinki smiled at the memory and got up to take the slipping beer bottle form Minho's fingers. He nudged the tired man into a more comfortable position on the sofa. Jinki sat on the seat adjacent to the sofa, watching Choi snore away, thinking of how much courage and inspiration this man had given him through the years.

 

"I love you, Jinki," Minho mumbled in his sleep as he settled deeply against the cushions.

 

Jinki smiled fondly at his friend. "I love you, too, Choi."

 

The DJ didn’t notice the form that hovered by the half-open doorway. The raised hand about to knock on Jinki’s door had stilled at Minho’s dreamy words, the fingers curling into a tight fist at Jinki’s response...

 

 

 

 

\- o -

 

Jinki drove into Minho’s parking space, wondering if it was a good idea to accept Minho’s invite to have dinner at his place.

 

“We’re limited to one bottle of soju tonight, ok?” Jinki clarified with Minho, simultaneously killing the engine and unlatching his seatbelt. “I think I’m too old for a repeat performance of last night.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Minho reassured him, getting out of the car. “I know I’m too old to do a repeat of last night.

 

“Did you hear what happened to Minjung?” Jinki asked Minho as they got in the elevator. “She almost got hit by a car!”

 

“Yeah, I heard,” Minho said, punching the number to his floor. “It’s like the station’s been cursed or something.”

 

“Waddaya mean?”

 

“Minjung getting almost ran over. My car getting keyed and slashed. Sehun getting food poisoned - ”

 

“What?” Jinki exclaimed. “When did Sehun get food poisoned?”

 

“My first night back from Italy.”

 

“Did he get it from the cafeteria?”

 

“Don’t think so, I mean we had dinner at the cafeteria that night and we’re ok.”

 

“Right.”

 

“Anyways, remember that girl with the huge crush on you?” Minho asked over his shoulder, as he got off the elevator. “The one that made campaign posters for you during that most-liked DJ thing?”

 

“You mean Yewon?” Jinki asked following Minho to his apartment door.

 

“Yeah, her,” Minho said, pulling out his keys. “She supposedly fell down a flight of stairs at the station. Broke her ankle.”

 

“Yeah, I heard about that. It happened the first week of your vacation.”

 

“I’m telling you man, someone hexed the station,” Minho intoned in a serious voice, unlocking his apartment. “What do you want to eat?”

 

“Jajjangmyeon and man - ,” Jinki stopped in his tracks next to Minho, gaping at the destruction of the apartment.

 

Smashed into pieces of glass and plastic was the fifty inch plasma that hung on the eastern wall of Minho’s living room. The glass-topped coffee table was on its side, glass shattered. Pots, pieces of dinnerware, cutleries and glassware were in strewn in a broken heap by the kitchen island. The door to Minho’s bedroom was open and even through the darkness, it was clear the room had not been spared.

 

Jinki dragged Minho out of the apartment, remembering a safety talk they had done at the show. Do not enter a ransacked apartment until it’s been confirmed that the perpetrator had left the vicinity. Jinki fumbled for his phone and dialed 119 and reported the incident.

 

After hanging up Jinki turned to Minho, a dazed look in his eyes. “I guess this means you’re cursed?”

 

 

 

 

\- o -

 

“Hey, did you hear?” Soojung, one of the junior writers for Shindong’s show whispered to Taeyeon. “Someone broke into Minho’s place.”

 

“Omg,” Taeyeon exclaimed a little too loudly for the elevator. “Is he ok?”

 

“He wasn't home when it happened.”

 

“That's good to hear,” Taeyeon sighed with visible relief.

 

“I didn't know you were close.”

 

“We're not!” the broadcasting assistant denied, flushing at the heads that turned their way. “He's been really kind to me, that's all.”

 

“Ok. I'll keep your little crush a secret,” the junior writer teased, giggling at the weak swat that landed on her shoulder. “Anyways, because of that, Minho is now living with Jinki until his place is fixed.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Don't worry,” said one of the elevator passengers openly eavesdropping on the conversation. “Everybody knows Jinki doesn't see Minho that way.”

 

“The hilarious saga of Choi Minho's one-sided love continues,” another person said.”

 

“I'd pay good money to witness Choi’s torture sharing Jinki's one-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment.”

 

Everyone shared an amused chuckle as they exited the elevator to the cafeteria floor. Except for the lone figure wedged at the corner of the elevator who listened to the office gossip with a clenched fist. The person moved towards the button panel, jabbing the close button with increasing force.

 

 

 

 

\- o -

 

               Minho frowned at the message board while checking for shoutouts. The spammer was back again. Peppering the board with hate comments about him and the station. A few seconds later they disappeared as IT sanitized the board.

 

               Nichkhun had explained how IP blocking worked once, and how a simple google search for a proxy site could bypass the restriction. Even blocking an entire region was not a guarantee the spammer or spammers would be stopped since it was just as easy to change regions. They could block countries outside of Korea, but that wasn’t ideal considering some of their had international listeners.

 

               Minho has learned not to care about the spammers. But lately the latest crop of assholes have been particularly nasty. One of the message he caught before IT deleted it had something to do with him being a sexual harasser and that’s not something he was in the frame of mind to forget.

 

               Catching Gwiboon’s eyes, Minho gestured for her to come into the booth. Taking off his headphones and making sure the mute indicator was on.

 

               “Did you see the messages on the message board? What the hell is going on?”

 

               “I saw and I sent Taeyeon to check with IT. These fuckers are getting out of hand.”

 

               “You think, Gwi?” Minho glared at his producer, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “Now they’re calling me a perv and that’s just the one I caught. I don’t need to say what that does to my name and to the station!”

 

               “I know damn well, Choi,” Gwiboon snapped. “I’m doing the best I can to handle this short of taking the entire message board down. So you can quit bitching about it and acting like I’m lounging around not doing anything!”

 

               “Both of you know, this is a televised segment right?” Eunsook said from the doorway. Amber was already moving around the cameras, averting the lenses as if checking them for focus. “Gwi, why don’t you take a break?”

 

 The producer left with her nose up in the air, but made sure that the cameras didn’t catch her face.

 

               “What’s eating you, Minho?” Eunsook asked after the door closed. Moving towards the DJ, shuffling papers around to look like they’re discussing the script. “This isn’t the first time you’ve gotten hate messages.”

 

               “It’s the first time someone’s accused me of being a perv. That’s no light matter.”

 

“I know, but we all know that’s not true, just as most of these hate messages aren’t. And the IT’s already flashed the statement about inappropriate messages. So what’s this really about?”

 

“I’m tired and this week’s been a bitch.”

 

“I’m sorry about that but, blowing up on Gwiboon is hardly the right approach.”

 

“I know,” Miho sighed. This will cost him at least a hundred-dollar bottle of red wine. “ I’ll apologise later.”

 

Eunsook looked like she had more to say but the  10-second warning interrupted her.

 

“I’ll talk to you later,” the writer said before leaving.

 

Minho went into his spiel and made shoutouts for the listeners. After doing a plug for the upcoming anniversary show, Minho played the next song queued. He had stuttered three times before finally being able to put the mic on mute.

 

__Damn. He was off today._ _

 

It’s been almost two weeks since he temporarily moved in with Jinki. Two weeks of torture that he’s not sure he can take anymore. He thought after the first night it would get better, but it’s gotten progressively worse.

 

The police didn’t let them go till 5 AM the night they walked into the mess that had become of his home. Minho had gone home with Jinki with what he could salvage of his personal effects. He would have slept on the couch, but his friend had insisted he use the bed instead. But of course Minho wasn’t about to kick Jinki out of his own bed.

 

“Fine,” Jinki sighed, pulling the covers down. “You take that side, I’ll take this side.”

 

“What?” Minho suddenly became awake. “Nah, it’s fine. I’m ok with the couch.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, that thing is about a foot shorter than you and this bed is big enough to share.”

 

“I’m really fine on the couch.”

 

“Don’t be stubborn. I promise not to take advantage of you.”

 

“Right,” Minho snorted in disbelief. “I’ll be fine. Go get some sleep.”

 

“Are you afraid of sharing a bed with me, Choi Minho?” Jinki joked, shifting his weight on one foot, a coquettish hand dropping on one hip. Head tilted in a challenging angle.

 

Minho gaped at Jinki. He cannot possibly know what he was doing to him or he wouldn’t be looking at him like that.

 

“Well?” Jinki asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

It must have been the exhaustion or he was finally tired of pretending. But Minho took a step forward, wrapping an arm around Jinki’s waist and pulled him close. Minho watched with satisfaction as Jinki’s smile vanished, eyes widening in surprise.

 

“Oh, bun bun,” Minho said in a low rumble, his other hand coming up to cup Jinki’s cheek, drawing his face closer. “Nothing would make me happier.”

 

Jinki’s mouth opened and closed in surprise, eyes widening in confusion.

 

               Snapping out of his momentary lapse of self indulgence. Minho made a wolfish leer and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, making  Jinki laugh and smack him on the arm.

 

               “You are such a cheese-ball,” Jinki grinned pushing him away. “Go take a bath and come to bed.”

 

               Minho’s heart had skipped a beat at Jinki’s words. __What had he gotten himself into?__

 

               But Minho survived the night by hugging the edge of the bed and staying awake most of the time, listening to Jinki’s breathing. Somehow managing not to reach for the warmth that was right across the bed. Minho had left for the station four hours after they had gone to bed, not sure how long his self control would hold out. Needless to say, he had been a walking zombie that day. It was a good thing everyone had just assumed he was out of it because of what had happened to his apartment.

              

               In the following days, Minho had made sure to go home first and tried to be asleep by the time Jinki got home. But Jinki always took a shower after he got home, and the clean, clear scent of his body wash woke Minho up in the middle of the night when found himself snuggled against Jinki.

 

               The first time it happened, he had woken Jinki up when he yanked away in surprise. Minho had excused himself to the bathroom. He didn’t sleep that night at all, after that. So now, Minho made sure to hug Jinki’s pillows, which also  smelled of him, to sleep. He found that he became somewhat immune to the scent and the pillow served as a safety-buffer. It wasn’t as warm as Jinki though. So maybe, that’s why he’d started unconsciously losing the pillow sometime during the night and he would still sometimes wake up spooned against Jinki. Thank God, Jinki hadn’t noticed and he had been able to more-stealthily make his escape before Jinki woke up.

 

               In the last couple of days though, things had shocklingly shifted, and he’s woken up to Jinki spooning against him. It had felt so good, that Minho allowed himself to daydream about a life waking up to Jinki’s warmth wrapped all around him. Of mornings where he’s free to turn over and nibble on those pouty lips until Jinki woke up. In this alternate universe, Jinki would return his kisses and run his hand under his shirt and then -

 

               __Beep, beep, beep!_ _

 

The 10-second warning, interrupting the fantasy that had been drawing his pants uncomfortably tight. Minho drew a deep breath, trying to calm his heart beat. He took a quick glance at the glass partition into the production side of the booth, guiltily feeling like his little fantasy was somehow playing across his forehead for the team to see. Good thing he’s only losing his mind from sexual frustration and not turning into a human projector...

 

              

 

 

\- o -

 

               Jinki woke up to an empty apartment, Minho already at the station, probably. It felt like he saw his friend less now than when they used to live apart. He had a feeling that Minho was avoiding him. Not that he blamed him.

 

               Jinki grimaced. He was probably weirded out when he woke up to his best friend plastered all over him. Jinki would be too. No, that was a lie. He wouldn’t be weirded by Minho spooning against him. He’s his best friend after all, and what happened was an accident. Or, he’d like to think it was an accident.

 

               Minho was just so warm and it was getting cold with the weather turning and that’s probably why Jinki found himself snuggled against Minho’s broad back. It wasn’t his fault Minho’s shirt had a tendency of riding up when he slept, and his hands just naturally splayed themselves against those tight abs. The first time it happened, Jinki had jerked back in surprise and had startled Minho awake.

 

               Maybe he should go buy a futon for Minho. Maybe he wasn’t used to sharing a bed with someone that’s why he’s been having a hard time sleeping lately. Maybe that’s what they should do this Friday.

              

               Glad with the reasoning, Jinki texted Minho about his plan. He didn’t question the brief ‘K’ he got as a response and got out of bed to get ready for work. He found a traditional Korean breakfast covered on the table. Horacio, who was sunning on a patch of sunshine on the hardwood floor, had been fed, judging by the half-filled kitty bowl. The water bowl had been refilled and the assembled kitty mansion that Minho ordered sat against the southwest corner of the living room.

 

               As Jinki sat down to eat, he glanced around and noticed a white shirt was slung over the back of the sofa and a bath towel was draped over two of the dining chairs. An extra pair of house slippers sat by the foyer closet. If Jinki opened the closet he knew he would find a pair of 8.5 runners sitting next to his. In the bathroom there would be two toothbrushes suctioned against the bathroom mirror and the tube of toothpaste would still be in the sink, where Jinki had asked Minho a couple of times not to leave it.

 

               For someone who didn’t like a clutter or messes, Jinki realized he didn’t mind the added space Minho had occupied in his home. Somehow his sterile apartment had become more than a place he came home to for the mere fact that it housed his bed. Someone else was sharing his space, making him breakfast and making sure Horacio was fed. And he had someone to share the chores with, and after work they could play all the video games they wanted.

 

               Maybe he should just ask Minho to be roomies. They’ve never been roomies before and as best friends, shouldn’t they be roomies at least once in their life? He can’t believe they skipped this integral stage of their friendship.

 

               Jinki grinned at his rationale and picked up his phone again, but found himself staring at the screen, uncertain of how to start the conversation. Wondering why there were butterflies in his stomach.

 

               *When is your apartment ready?* he finally typed, gnawing on his lips.

 

               Jinki went back to eating as he waited for a reply. The response came just as Jinki finished his soup.

 

               *Moving out in a couple of days.*

 

               Jinki frowned at the curt message.

 

*Really?*

 

*Yeah, so I’ll be out of your hair soon.*

 

Thick brows slammed together at the definite bite in the message. Checking the time and making sure After Hours was already off,  Jinki punched the call button, temper rising as the ringing continued as if Minho wasn’t picking up.

 

               Just as he was about to drop the call, Minho picked up with a curt “Yeah?”

 

               “What’s up with you?” Jink asked bluntly.

 

               “What do you mean?”

 

               “Don’t play dumb. What’s this about you moving out?”

 

               “Just like, I said, I’m moving out in a couple of days so I can get out of your hair.”

 

               “Don’t fucking make it sound as if I’m kicking you out,” Jinki gritted ou in a cold voice.

 

               “Look, who’s playing dumb,” Minho snorted on the other line.

 

               “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

 

               “Nothing. Look, I need to go. Let’s talk later.”

 

               The line went dead before Jinki could open his mouth. __What the hell was that?__

 

              

 

 

\- o -

              

               The slamming of Minho’s office door announced Jinki’s arrival. Minho didn’t even flinch and continued trying to figure out how he was going to start his apology. He needed to do the adult thing and apologize to his best friend. He knew that his lack of sleep was making him cranky and he was spoiling for a fight. And Jinki, being the object of his frustration, was the natural target.

 

The mature, rational, part of Minho’s mind understood that Jinki had every right to ask him when he’s moving out. The man was an only child and had never even had a roommate since he lived at home while he was in uni. So the current situation was probably very uncomfortable for him. So therefore, he’s gonna have to apologize.

 

               Wow, two apologies in one day. He was in a roll today. 

 

               “The hell is going on with you?” Jinki opened, hands on his hips, eyes piercing.

 

               “Nothing. What’s wrong with you?” Mino almost bit off his tongue after the words left his mouth. His plan to be mature going down the drain at the anger he could see in Jinki’s eyes.

 

               “Don’t pull this high school crap on me, Choi Minho. Just say what it is that’s been making you avoid me!”

 

               “Avoiding you? Wow, Jinki, I didn’t know going to work was avoiding you.”

 

               “Minho, stop. You haven’t had dinner with me for a week. You’re gone before I even wake up and you avoid me here at the station.”

 

“Wow, you sound like my boyfriend.”

 

               “Fuck me,” Jinki muttered throwing up his hand in exasperation.

 

               “Is that an invitation?” Minho leered at Jinki. “I’m always willing to to oblige.”

              

“Drop the act Minho. You hardly even notice that I’m sleeping next to you.”

 

Minho was suddenly tired. He wondered why he was trying to keep up this charade. He was so tired of just watching Jinki. He wanted his little fantasy to be a reality. He wasn’t sure if a lifetime of longing would be less excruciating than telling Jinki how he felt and being rejected. Minho stood up from his desk, suddenly deciding it was time he closed the curtain on their platonic charade.

 

Jinki watched Minho advanced towards him. Purposeful steps brought the tall man towering over him. Jinki held his ground, not breaking eye contact. He didn’t see the arms that wrapped around him jerking him forward.

 

A startled hiss escaped his lips as his braced themselves against Minho’s chest. He could feel Minho’s heart pound frantically under his palm. His body absorbing the heat radiating from the man holding him too close. But Jinki never took away his eyes from Minho’s face, even when he felt a finger under his chin, nudging his head further up.

 

“I hope you’re ready for this unveiling” Minho said, eyes boring into him as he came closer, giving him enough time to pull away if he wanted to. But Jinki stood still, lips tingling, heart pounding at what was happening.

 

Warm lips pressed against his, the hand under his chin traced his jaw as it moved to the back of his head, where fingers tangled with his hair, cradling his head as Minho drew the kiss deeper.

 

               Jinki’s eyes fluttered close as he returned the kiss. A roaring in his ear accompanied the frantic beating of his heart. His fingers clutched at Minho’s shirt, drawing himself closer.

 

               “Ahem.”

 

               Jinki jumped away from Minho at the sound of the voice. Flushing with embarrassment at Gwiboon’s raised eyebrow and the knowing grins of Minho’s production team. Giggles from outside the office drew Jinki’s attention to the open doorway and the people who got a glimpse of their kiss before Gwiboon interrupted. Jinki could his feel his face getting redder as he saw Taemin, Junghee, and Nichkhun all rubbernecking.

 

               “I’d say get a room,” Gwibbon started. “But technically you’re in a room. So maybe next time, close the door at least?”

 

 

 

 

\- o -

 

               The laughter and catcalls that erupted after Gwiboon’s quip grated on one person’s nerves. The person left the vicinity as quickly as possible without looking suspicious.

 

               But the movement seemed to signal it was time to disperse. The small group of people who witnessed the kiss gossiped and laughed like it was an event to be celebrated.

 

               “Choi Minho,” Luna said. “Boy finally got the man of his dreams.”

 

               “About time,” someone else said giggling. “I thought I was going to have to spell it out for Jinki.”

 

               “So who won the bet?”

 

               “What bet?”

 

               “The bet on how long it would take before Minho got into Jinki’s pants.”

 

               “Nah. That looked like a first kiss.”

 

               “I’m betting that was the first kiss. You wanna start that poll?”

 

               The person gritted their teeth at the vulgar, demeaning talk. The person wanted to yell at everyone to shut up. White hot anger, boiled in the pit of the person’s stomach. The person was afraid they would lose control. Thankfully the washrooms were up ahead.

 

               “Excuse me,” the person told their companion ducking into one of the washrooms.

 

               Checking to see that the washroom was empty, the person closed and locked the washroom door and entered one of the stalls. Unrolling a thick wad of paper towel, running it under the tap until the mass became a wet ball. The person took the ball and cramped it inside their mouth. When they could barely breathe, the person screamed from behind the paper towel blob and shook their body from side to side. Hands punched and clawed the air. Legs kicking at nothing, expending as much energy as if there was a target in sight.

 

              

 

 

\- o -

 

               Jinki felt like he was floating while he hosted The Session. He wasn’t sure if he was awake, but the ribbing and knowing winks from his team was enough to assure him he wasn’t. What happened that afternoon really did happen. He, Lee Jinki, Kissed his best friend Choi Minho.

 

               At the memory, Jinki fumbled his tagline of the night. Taemin raised an eyebrow at him; next to him, Amber visibly snickered. Jinki felt his cheeks heat up again. He’d been doing it all night. Everytime he caught one of production team’s eyes or remembered how Minho’s lips felt over his…

 

               The internal messenger pinging spared Jinki from combusting over the memory

 

*SHINE-ProdTaem: Walk-in.”

 

               Jinki raised an OK sign and located the flagged message. It was from GuardianAngel. The same person who had messaged about the friend who was getting unwanted attention at work two weeks ago. This time they want they want to know what they should do if the other party was forcing themselves on the other friend.

 

Jinki frowned and pulled up the internal messaging app and started typing:

 

SHINE-DJDOCJ:  *Is it ok to answer this? We could be held liable.”

 

SHINE-ProdTaem: *It’s fine. Just say to consult HR. Do the safety route. We can’t ignore them. They’ve been repeating the same question all night.*

 

Jinki hesitated but readjusted his headphone back in place.

 

“... Last message for the night is from GuardianAngel who messaged us last week about a friend who was getting unwanted attention from a coworker. I understand that it’s gotten a lot more physical than that. We at SHINE would like to advise your friend that they contact their immediate superior and their HR.”

 

The was supposed to be the end of it, but Jinki felt compelled to add, “Until everything is sorted out, make sure that your friend is  never alone when in the office. Just to be safe.”

 

Jinki studiously avoided looking over at the production where he knew Taemin was probably boring a hole through his head. Company liability be damned, a person was being threatened; they should at least exercise all their options to keep safe.

 

Jinki scrolled through the message board to locate what other messages GuardianAngel left, and basically saw what Taemin said earlier. The user had repeated the same message over and over again, probably in the hopes of getting noticed. Which was risky, because they could have easily been flagged as a spam.

 

As Jinki scrolled back to the bottom of the page he noticed increased, almost frantic pace, the messages entered on the message board.

 

*Didori2017: What’s up with the ambulance at the shine station?*

 

*sorrynotsorry: Eh? Is anyone hurt?*

 

*newgenbach12590: DJ Doc, is everything ok over there?*

 

Jinki waved at Taemin wondering and pointed at his screen. He watched his producer check out the messages. A little bit later, Junghee went out of the room. Fours songs later, during the intermission, Junghee burst into the room and spoke to Taemin. She was wringing her hand in an agitated manner.

 

A chill ran down Jinki’s spine as Amber half came out of her chair, mouth open in a shocked expression. Taemin whipped around and gave Amber orders Jinki couldn’t hear, he then entered the sound proofed room of the booth.

 

“Jinki, you need to go to the hospital,” the producer said bluntly. “Minho was stabbed.”

 

              

 

 

\- o -

 

               Minho jerked at the curtain being yanked open, which led to the resident poking him with the suture needle. Minho cussed and the resident cussed.

 

               “Minho!” Jinki’s exclaimed in a frantic voice.

 

“Excuse me!” doctor called out from behind his mask. “You’re not allowed in here.”

 

               “I’m the husband,” was Jinki’s immediate response. Minho’s jaws dropped. He understood that Jinki only said that he could enter the room. But the understanding didn’t necessarily translate to his pulse.

 

               “They told me you got stabbed! What happened? Who did this to you?”

 

               Minho held out a hand to Jinki, Jinki reached out and twined their fingers together. He pulled Jinki closer and leaned his head against his chest.

 

               “The guy was trying to stab me but I managed to twist away. So he only managed to slash me.”

 

               “Oh my god,” Jinki whispered, free arm coming around Minho’s shoulders. “Did you recognize him?”

 

               “Nope,” Minho said, turning his head to bury his nose against Jinki’s shirt and took a deep breath. “But I do know it’s the same guy that slashed my car. Even wearing the same hoodie. Police is looking through the parking lot’s CCTV footage as we speak.”

 

               Minho felt Jinki’s chest expand as he took a deep breath, felt the brush of his lips on top of his head. He had almost lost this. Tonight when that asshole attacked him, he had almost lost his chance to explore what that kiss meant for the both of them. The urgency to settle what ‘this’ thing is between them made Minho want to tell the doctor to hurry up.

 

               As if reading his mind, Jinki tightened his arms around Minho’s shoulder, holding him as close as possible without interrupting the last of the sutures. When the doctor was finished, Minho was wheeled into a  recovery room, with four other beds. Thankfully they were all empty.

 

               “His knife wound was not severe enough to cause severe blood loss. So Mr. Choi didn’t require transfusion,” the doctor told Jinki as Minho was transferred from the wheelchair to the bed, muttering about being able to walk on his own. “He also has a concussion from a head injury after being knocked to the ground. It was a good thing his wounds weren’t deep, or he could have bled out while he was unconscious. But we’re going to be keep him overnight for observations just to be sure.”

 

               Jink nodded and thanked the doctor repeatedly. After the doctor left, he went about making Minho comfortable.  Minho was lethargic from the pain meds and exhaustion. His eyes kept closing, but Jinki wouldn’t let them stay that way. Without a word he grabbed Jinki’s hand and held onto it, returning squeezes to prove he was still awake. Jinki finally let him close his eyes.

 

 

 

 

\- o -

 

Jinki studied Minho’s the dark circles and cracked lips and it hits him that Minho could have died and he would have been lost to him forever. Jinki brushed back Minho's hair tracing his sleepy face. How did he do it? How did he manage to overlook this thing that they had? He doesn’t know what ‘this’ is, but it was there and he wasn’t going to runaway from it.

 

Minho opened his eyes and gave him a tired smile.

 

"Hey," Jinki greeted with a faint smile. "You hungry? Thirsty?"

 

"No," Minho croaked, taking the hand combing his hair and laced it with his. "Just stay here - with me."

 

"Always," Jinki whispered, watching Minho's eyes tiredly flutter shut. "I love you, Choi."                           

 

"I love you too," said Minho with quiet deliberation. Big doe eyes opening and hands tightening around Jinki's. "I've always loved you."

 

Jinki stared at Minho mind blanking at the realization that the words held the weight of a confession.

 

Minho held Jinki's gaze hoping and willing with all of his broken being that his best friend - the love of his life - would at least consider what he was offering.

 

The brilliant smile caught Minho off guard. His heart stopping as Jinki leaned over and gave him a kiss on the lips.

 

"Don't let this be a dream. Please," Minho pleaded in a whisper, an arm tightening around Jinki, while the other cupped his face. "If this is a dream that probably means I'm in a coma. Don't wake me up ok?"

 

"No, it's not a dream." Jinki laughed giving him another lingering kiss.

 

"God, I love you," he said staring him straight in the eyes, giving him another peck on the lips. Minho, revived from his stupor, found the strength to drag Jinki into the hospital bed with him, ignoring the painful twinge of his wound.

 

Jinki giggled, automatically moulding himself to Minho's uninjured side as if he's done it for years. Minho sighed as he felt Jinki's warmth seep through the sheets and his hospital gown. A sense of peace settling over him. As if something vital that he had lost had found his way back to him, making him whole again. With utmost care, he cupped Jinki's face, minutely studying every feature. “I can make you love me.”

 

"I already do," Jinki answered.

 

“Let me clarify,” Minho said. “I can make you fall in love with me”

 

“I might already be halfway there,” Jinki remarked, smiling at Minho, eyes glistening in their crescent shape.

 

“When do you think you got halfway there?”

 

"A minute ago, when you looked so tired? Five hours ago when you got hurt and I thought I lost you? Earlier this week when you were playing with Horacio. Last week when you insisted on buying that expensive, god-awful kitty mansion for __my__ cat. Last year when you took care of me when I had the avian flu. Two years ago, when you couldn't move after rolling your bad ankle. Possibly back in highschool when you were so mad at the world but still tried to smile because you're a really good guy. Or maybe when we were seven and you said you'd be my friend? I honestly don't know."

 

Minho swiped his thumb over the tear that rolled down Jinki’s cheek. Every word that Jinki said was a soothing balm to his emotions that had wanted so hard and so long for this moment to happen.

 

"What I do know is that losing you would kill me," Jinki confessed in a broken whisper.

 

"You can't know how happy I am right now," Minho said quietly, tilting his head to kiss Jinki again. It was slow, languid and sweet. The two breathed a happy sigh when they pulled apart. Chuckling together at the sound.

 

The couple held each other silently, mind wandering through memories. One had to wonder how he could have failed to see what had been so obvious. The other marveling at the fact that the man he's always wanted is finally in his arms.

 

Jinki's scent and  the absent circles he was drawing on Mino's hip was causing a predictable effect on his libido. But before Minho could do anything about it, someone knocked on the door.

 

Jinki made a move to leave the bed, but Minho held him in place.  "Come in."

 

Taemin walked in with a bag of fruit. "Oh! Sorry to interrupt!"

 

"No, you're not interrupting anything," Jinki reassured the guest, trying to get up again. Feeling weird and embarrassed about being caught in his position.

 

"Yes, you are," Minho said, tightening his hold on Jinki, but smiled at their co-worker to take the sting out of his words. "But it’s ok. You can be the first to know: we're official!"

 

              

 

 

\- o -

 

               Later in the afternoon, Minho was released with instructions to rest and not get his bandage wet. Good thing it was Friday and neither he nor Mino had a schedule at the station. Taemin had reassured them that he’d talk to management and see whe he can do about their schedules in the upcoming week.

 

               Minho promptly went to sleep, now that he’s allowed to sleep. Jinki took a shower and checked his Horacio’s food and water. Just as he was about to join Minho for a nap, the doorbell rang. It was Taemin with the Etude commercial release form he needed to sign.

 

               “Did closing go well last night?” Jinki asked Taemin as he wrote the date under his signature. “Sorry, I left you.”

 

               “Don’t worry about it. I told you to go,” Taemin told him. “I sent everyone home soon after you left. I didn’t want to give that hoodie creep more victims if he decided to come back.”

 

               Jinki nodded, a slight shudder went through him at the thought that Minho could have gotten seriously hurt or worse if the old security guard hadn’t been periodically checking the parking’s video feed. He’d been doing it every night he was on duty around 8-10 PM, ever since Minho came to him about his tire being slashed.            

 

“How’s Minho doing?” Taemin asked putting away the forms.

 

               “Good, sleeping. He’s exhausted.”

 

               “Can you blame him?” Taemin chuckled, sipping his tea. “He’s had a rough month.”

 

               “That he has,” Jinki chuckled darkly. “I hope the police catch this bastard soon.”

 

               “I hope so. But it could be hard with his face hidden under that hoodie.”

 

               “Well, management better think of hiring additional security to patrol  parking,” Jinki said standing up to hint at Taemin that he needed rest.

 

               “Let’s hope so,” Taemin said, getting the hint. “I’ll definitely do my best to convince them.”

 

               Jinki walked Taemin to the door thanking him again for the fruit. As Taemin bent to put on his shoes, Jinki noticed the Taemin was wearing a black hoodie, pants and dark runners. Not that there was anything wrong with his outfit, but something about the ensemble said ‘trying to be inconspicuous.’

 

               “By the way,” Jinki asked Taemin’s bent head.. “How’d you know the attacker wore a hoodie?”

 

               “Minho mentioned it this morning.”

 

               “Oh,” Jinki nodded, putting on an expression as if he just had been reminded of something. “Ok. Drive home safe.”

 

               “Thanks,” Taemin told him with a smile. “Don’t forget to lock the door behind me.”

 

               Jinki moved behind Taemin, almost crowding him out of the door. Just before Jinki closed the door, Taemin turned around.

 

               “One more thing,” the producer said, with an apologetic smile on his face. “I’m sorry.”

 

               A punch into Jinki’s gut took all the wind out of him. The pain doubled Jinki over, gasping for air. The second punch knocked Jinki to the ground. Taemin, stepped over the inert form and made his way towards the bedroom, pulling out the switchblade from his back pocket. But before Taemin reached the bedroom, a loud clatter came from the foyer. Jinki had grabbed the metal coat rack, toppling it to the floor.

 

               The loud crash had Minho, bounding out of bed racing to wards the sound, worried Jinki had gotten into an accident. He opened the door to Taemin standing in the living room, holding a knife. Behind the producer was Jinki’s crumpled form in the foyer.

 

               Before Minho could full process what was happening, Taemin gave a guttural scream and lunged across the space between them, bladed hand raised high. Minho put up both arms to and caught Taemin’s wrists as it arched down. Minho tried to wrest the weapon way but Taemin was running on crazy amounts of adrenaline and tried to knee Minho in the groin. But Minho twisted his hips, catching the the quick, successive knees to the side of his thigh.

 

               “He’s mine, he’s mine, he’s mine, he’s mine!” Taemin chanted as he raised his kneed Minho over and over again.

 

               Taemin distracted with his attack on Minho’s lower body, lost some power in the dominance for his hand clutching the knife. With a huge heave, Minho twisted Taemin’s arm, throwing the smaller man off balance. Minho took advantage at the pause in the assault and kneed him in the groin.

 

               Taemin lost his hold on the knife as he crumpled to the ground. Keening sounds escaping his lips as he cupped his privates. Minho kicked the fallen knife away while moving of Taemin’s reach. He kept his eyes on Taemin as he backed towards Jinki, still crumpled in the foyer.

 

               The keening sounds stopped, replaced by chantings inaudible chantings. Taemin got to his feet and Minho can clearly hear what the producer was saying over and over again.

 

               “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate!” With a shriek, Taemin carelessly rushed towards Minho.

 

               Minho waited for an opening and delivered a frontal kick to Taemin’s chest. Taemin’s lighter form flew backwards and slammed into the bookcase by the bedroom door. The force of the impact caused him to bounce of the shelves, the bookshelf crashing over him as he fell forward, burying him in heavy, hardbound.

 

 

 

 

\- o -

 

               The anniversary show was finally done and over with. No more 12 hours work shift. Minho and Jinki can finally go home and have dinner that didn’t come wrapped in plastic. Horacio greeted them by the door with it’s loud meowing demanding to be petted. Jinki moved towards the kitchen and prepped the ingredient while Minho refilled Horacio’s food and water.

 

               The pile of hardbound still sat by the bedroom door where the bookshelf had stood. A mute reminder of what had happened the day of the attack. Detective Kim Jonghyun explained how they had gone to Taemin’s apartment to ask him if he saw anything the night Minho had been attacked. The old security guard had remembered seeing the producer being in the parking lot, during one of his checks on the CCTV, being on the lookout for the hoodie perp, who had slashed Minho’s tires.

 

               Taemin had not picked up their call, so Kim and his partner, Victoria Song tracked him down to the station. They were told Taemin had gone to get Jinki’s to sign a release form and was told he would be back later and they were welcome to wait if they wanted to. Victoria was inspecting the pictures on the bureau adjacent to the producer’s desk when she accidentally bumped the mobile whiteboard dislodging it’s position against the wall. As she pushed it back in a place a picture of Jinki had floated down from the back of the board.

 

               Victoria looked at the exposed back of the whiteboard. More pictures of Jinki were taped to it. Detective Kim Jonghyun gave the wheeled base a little nudge to expose the entire back of the whiteboard. A collage of stolen pictures of Jinki was exposed.

 

               The detective later explained that Taemin’s apartment held a much more elaborate altar of Jinki. It wasn’t surprising to find out that Wookey73, a regular account that spammed the message boards with I love you’s for Jinki, turned out to be Taemin’s.

 

What may have started as a simple hero worship, but had taken a dangerous turn when Taemin’s mother, his only living relative, had finally succumbed to a lifelong illness that had kept her bedridden for years. He passing had left Taemin unstable emotionally and had obsessively latched on  Jinki to keep afloat. Minho’s attention that didn’t to matter was suddenly seen as a threat, thus the attacks.

 

Jinki tried  to remember if he had done anything to give the impression to Taemin that they could be more than friends. The profiler had explained that this was not in anyway his fault. Taemin could have simply found his smile kind or some other minute, unconscious action as his encouragement. All because he wanted to believe that there was something there.

 

               Minho heaved a deep sigh at the memory of a sobbing Taemin, telling Jinki how much he loved him over and over again. And that all he need was a chance to prove to him that he could be happy with him. He felt sorry for the kid, who probably just needed to someone to return his love.

 

               The low humming from the kitchen brought him out his reverie. It reminded him that these days he had no reason to be sighing. After, all the love of his life was cooking him dinner.

 

               “When is the bookshelf being delivered again?” Minho asked as he accepted the apron Jinki offered him, automatically turning around to let Jinki tie it around his waist.

 

               “Next week,” Jinki replied, holding out his right hand to Minho who took off the brown leather bracelet he was fond of wearing these days, and put it in the accessory bowl. He took Jinki’s left hand removing all accessories, except for the identical gold band that he sported.

 

Minho ran a thumb over the jewelry, a faint smile tugging at his lips as  Jinki tugged him closer and sang the lines engraved on the ring as a sound wave:

 

 

 

Last stanza of In Your Eyes

I remember the day we first met

You came to me on a dazzling and bright day

Thank you so much

For coming to me.

 

 

 

 

**\- FIN -**


End file.
